Wang Hongjing figured that if her ex and his new flame opened a Hot Pot place, she wouldn't set foot inside either.
After all, the romance might be dead, but dignity still mattered.
How mortifying if someone spotted you there!
"Then just don't go," Wang Hongjing said.
"I'm not going—but I love it too much. I crave the broth, the cozy vibe, every song they play. I dream of that Hot Pot. Ahhh, what do I do? Eating there is the only joy left in my life!"
At last Wang Hongjing understood.
The reason Gao Qian had stared at Ye Chen so bitterly wasn't love for him—it was hatred that the restaurant she adored had to be his.
"Ugh, why does the best Hot Pot in the world have to be Ye Chen's?" Gao Qian lamented.
Wang Hongjing: "Got it—you're over Ye Chen, but you've fallen for Ye Chen's Hot Pot, right?"
…Afternoon break.
Ye Chen, Li Sitong and Xia Yingluo jogged to the Playground.
As Ye Chen put it, a strong body is the capital of revolution.
Truth was, he loved watching Li Sitong and Xia Yingluo's long hair flutter as they ran, hips swaying—pure youth, pure beauty.
Utterly youthful, utterly gorgeous!
Back in the Classroom someone said, "Hey, my grades have shot up lately."
"Yeah, mine too—but my class ranking's stayed the same."
"Same here. I gained ten-plus points and thought I'd climb ten spots, yet I actually dropped two."
"Notice how we've all improved since Ye Chen started tutoring us?"
One student hit the nail on the head.
"Right, my jump came after Ye Chen helped me."
"Me too."
Once said, everyone found the reason.
They unanimously agreed: it was Ye Chen's doing.
"Ye Chen boosted us each by ten-odd points—shouldn't we thank him?"
"Sure—but how?"
He's a classmate; you can't just hand over gifts.
The idea felt awkward, and the room fell silent again.
"I've got an idea," Gao Qian said, raising her hand.
Every head turned toward her.
"Ye Chen owns a Hot Pot place—let's all go eat there and support him."
"Perfect! Brilliant idea!"
"Exactly—no awkwardness, and we show our thanks."
Hearing the chorus of approval, Gao Qian felt smug.
So smart—hiding among classmates means no embarrassment when I pig out.
Achoo!
Ye Chen sneezed out of nowhere.
That evening Ye Chen received devastating news: the Hot Pot Restaurant had turned a profit.
He stared blankly at the report.
Hadn't it been bleeding money just days ago? How could it be in the black?
Next day at lunch he headed to the restaurant.
Li Sitong and Xia Yingluo were bustling about inside.
Ye Chen asked curiously, "Was yesterday especially busy?"
"Packed! People queued to get in," Xia Yingluo beamed.
"After costs we cleared over five hundred yuan."
Five hundred wasn't huge, but for a brand-new shop, profit meant the starting line had been crossed.
The two girls were over the moon; Ye Chen felt like crying.
Five hundred a day—about fifteen thousand a month.
But profit meant no more investment—how could he keep "shearing the sheep"?
He felt like weeping.
Isn't every industry supposed to be sluggish? Isn't losing money easy?
Why is losing money so damn hard for me?
Watching the beaming Xia Yingluo and Li Sitong, Ye Chen drew a deep breath.
No—if something's broken, find the cause.
He had to discover why they were profitable so he could resume his grand plan of losing money.
A cold glint flashed in Ye Chen's eyes.
He would see exactly who was sabotaging his losing streak.
Profit isn't scary—just identify the leak and plug it.
He strolled the floor and quickly spotted plenty of "problems."
The order sheets had changed—now they were artsy.
Cartoon style, vintage style, romantic style.
Table stickers carried poetic lyrics.
Most glaring, the waitstaff were new people entirely.
Warm service, high energy, every one of them.
Each even wore a smiley-face badge on the chest.
Ye Chen frowned—hadn't customers complained about surly servers just days ago?
To him, Song Yuyu and the others now delivered five-star service.
Previously they'd been no different from staff at any other Hot Pot joint.
Perfunctory refills, wooden expressions.
Now every employee greeted guests with beaming smiles.
You felt guilty walking out without spending.
You were treated like royalty the instant you stepped in.
Especially when he saw an old couple merely browsing out of curiosity, yet Song Yuyu talked them into ordering a two-person set—and they even vowed to come weekly for a "Sunset Years romance" experience.
Ye Chen: "…"
He questioned life itself—since when could Hot Pot be romantic?
Ye Chen pulled Han Jiaqi aside. "Why is our service suddenly this good?"
Han Jiaqi grinned. "Boss, I've managed plenty of stores, but our crew works the hardest. Every guest praises their attitude; we already have regulars."
"But… why are they trying so hard?" Ye Chen was bewildered.
In his eyes the Orphanage kids had always been slackers—what changed?
Han Jiaqi replied, "I asked them. Yuyu said this shop was opened for the Orphanage, so they have no excuse not to give their all. Slacking would betray themselves—and you, Boss."
"Boss, it comes down to you being kind; that's why they pour their hearts into it."
Ye Chen's face was bitter. If you really want to help me, could you please not be so enthusiastic?
Of course he swallowed those words, letting the bitterness churn inside.
He'd found the root of the disease: Song Yuyu and the kids.
Just as Han Jiaqi walked off, Ye Chen turned—and spotted several familiar silhouettes.
His heart jumped.
"Why are they here?"
…